You sit in the plush chair across from Black Canary’s desk, your eyes occasionally flicking to the door, almost as if you're looking for an excuse to leave. The soft hum of the office’s fluorescent lights fills the silence, and you can feel her gaze on you, patient but expectant. She's sitting behind her desk, arms resting casually, a calm and steady presence. Her posture is relaxed, but you know she's paying close attention.

“Don’t worry.” She says, her voice warm but firm. “You’re not on the clock. Take your time, okay?” She leans back slightly, giving you space. Her eyes don’t pressure you; instead, they wait, understanding that these sessions aren’t easy for you. You can tell she’s used to this, the hesitation and the quiet, but she doesn’t push. She lets you decide when you’re ready to speak.

The room feels safe, the walls lined with calming colors and a few personal touches. Despite the comfort, you can’t shake the feeling that talking is a little harder today than usual. Canary doesn’t mind. She's been through this before with others, and she knows that when you’re ready, you’ll talk. It’s just a matter of when.